


hidden among these leaves

by violetstorm



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad Parenting, Coping, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetstorm/pseuds/violetstorm
Summary: Clarus has always been an absent father to Gladio and Iris. Now, he's gone and Gladio's not sure how he feels about it.Talking about it with Iris helps.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Iris Amicitia
Kudos: 19





	hidden among these leaves

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write some amicitia bonding / angst, remembered this one kinkmeme prompt that was smthn like “what if clarus wasn’t a good father and only gladio+iris knew and after his death, they need to keep up a facade b/c clarus was so well-regarded” and went feral.
> 
> obvious warning but: clarus isn’t portrayed in the most positive light here. (there's also some blink-and-you'll-miss it gladnis moments, but even then, it's only implied)
> 
> (title + summary may also be changed in the future)

The king is dead.

Cor’s voice is as unwavering as always when he delivers the news over the phone. Noct’s hand is shaking, just barely. This is Niff territory now—Gladio should be on the lookout for MTs, but all he can do is watch Insomnia burn.

The king is dead, and so is his shield.

* * *

Gladio can’t get a hold of Iris until they make it to the Hunter HQ and he finally gets service. Immediately, his phone is buzzing with endless texts. Most of them are from Iris.

“She’s okay, Gladio,” Cor says. “I made sure of it. It’s… the least I could do for your father. She’s being escorted to Lestallum alongside Jared and Talcott, where she’ll be safe. Until then—”

“Stay focused on the—on Noct, yeah. I know.”

He can’t say it. He can’t say the  _ king.  _ He’s always dreamed of the moment he’d finally get to call himself the Shield of the King, but the title’s come too soon. Cor called Noct “Majesty” for the first time in the ruins of his ancestor, and Noct’s expression turned to stone. Maybe Ignis has a point when he continues to call Noct “Highness.”

The hunters give them two rooms. Noct walks into one without a word and slams the door shut behind him. There’s no click of a lock, though. Prompto hesitates.

“Go,” Ignis says softly. Prompto nearly jumps in place. “I’m sure that Noct needs all the support he can get right now.”

The Marshal is just outside their building, the lights are strong even in the darkening sky and Noct’s surrounded by hunters. He’s the safest he could be, now that Insomnia’s gone. After Prompto leaves, Gladio turns to Ignis.

“I’m going to try and get ahold of Iris. Call me if anything happens.”

“Of course. And Gladio—” Ignis takes a deep breath, and forces himself to meet Gladio’s eyes. “—I’m sorry about your father.”

Gladio freezes. Ignis must take this for grief, and gently lays a hand on his arm. He must think he’s reeling over the loss of his father and the realization sits heavy on his chest.

“Yeah,” Gladio eventually says. “Me too.”

He doesn’t remember leaving the building, walking past Cor and to the outskirts of the HQ, where the lights begin to dim. His phone is in his hands and Iris’ name is on-screen. Her contact photo is a picture of herself and a stuffed moogle toy Gladio won for her at a fair. She’s got the biggest smile Gladio’s ever seen her have.

She doesn’t answer his call. He tries again, three more times and she picks up on the fourth ring.

_ “Gladio?”  _ Iris’ voice is breathy, in disbelief. “Gladdy, is that you?”

There’s something in Gladio’s throat. It’s hard to speak. “Hey, Moogle. Glad to hear you’re okay.”

“And you, too. Oh,  _ Gladdy.  _ I was  _ so  _ worried. Cor said you were fine, but I wanted to hear you myself. And the others..?”

“They’re okay too. We’re at Hunter HQ with the Marshal right now. He said you’re heading to Lestallum?”

“Yeah.” Iris is silent for a moment. “We were one of the first ones out of Insomnia when it was… attacked. Me, Jared and Talcott, I mean. There was a  _ peace  _ treaty going on. I-I didn’t know anything was going to happen. It was just a normal day, I thought that things were finally gonna start looking up, but then—!”

“Iris.” For all the years that Gladio’s been taking Iris, he’s as shit as ever when it comes to comforting her. What is he supposed to say?  _ It’s gonna be okay  _ doesn’t seem as believable when Niffs are marching the streets like they own the place.

(But now they actually  _ do _ ).

“Sorry. I know,” Iris says. “You told me not to dwell on the bad stuff that happens.” 

Gladio barks out a short laugh, without humour. “Our hometown just got  _ destroyed.  _ I think you’re allowed to be upset over this. Just… stay close to Jared and Talcott, okay? You can rely on them, too.”

“I will. And I’m going to protect them, as an Amicitia.”

“That’s my girl.”

The lights inside the hunters’ buildings are beginning to blink out, one by one. Gladio can see something moving in the distance; he’s not sure if it’s a daemon or a regular animal. It’s chilly, too, but he doesn’t have any warmer clothes to wear.

(He’d been packing for a trip to a beach, after all).

“The king’s… really gone, isn’t he?” Iris is so quiet that Gladio barely catches it. He swallows.

“Yeah.”

Iris isn’t stupid. She knows what that means. They are the last Amicitias standing.

“We’ll head to Lestallum as fast as we can,” Gladio says.”

“Okay. Text me as often as you can. And tell the others that I’m glad they’re okay, too.”

“I will. See you soon, Moogle.”

“See you soon, Gladdy.”

There’s silence on both ends. Both of them don’t hang up for a moment, then Gladio slowly pushes the  _ end call  _ button. The chime of his phone hanging up sounds like a death knell.

When Gladio returns to his room, Ignis is in bed. Gladio slides in next to him, praying that he’s asleep, but he’s Ignis, of course he isn’t.

“How is she doing?” Ignis whispers, as if afraid to break the stillness of their room. He turns in bed until he’s facing Gladio.

“As well as expected.”

“And you?”

“As well as expected.”

Ignis sighs and fixes Gladio with The Stare. The same one that normally has Gladio bending over backwards to whatever Ignis wants him to do or say. But today, maybe The Stare isn’t as harsh or maybe Gladio’s too tired or maybe it’s a little of both, as Ignis just leans forward, resting a palm over Gladio’s chest.

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine. I only wish for you to know that you are not alone in your grief and you do not need to hide anything from me.”

There’s that word again.  _ Grief. _ Like Gladio’s supposed to feel upset over the loss of his father.

He doesn’t know how to tell Ignis that he isn’t.

* * *

Gladio’s temper is even shorter than usual, Noct is sullen, Ignis is withdrawn and Prompto is filled with anxiety, constantly trying and failing to lighten the mood. There’s tension in Gladio’s shoulders and he knows it won’t lessen until he gets to Lestallum and sees Iris.

They camp, and when Gladio’s keeping watch, he lays flat against the haven and stares at the sky with only the crackle of fire for company. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine being a kid again, camping without a care in the world.

He always loved being free from the city’s walls and pollution and noise. He loved being able to count the stars and point out the constellations and listen to the sounds of wildlife while his mom or dad would teach him about the types of animals and plants he came across.

The last time Gladio went camping, he was ten and Iris was two and it was Clarus’ turn to take him. His mom had given him a kiss, ruffled his hair and told him to be careful and Gladio had carefully patted Iris on her tiny head.

It was typical, it was fun and then Clarus got a call in the dead of night, told Gladio to pack his bags without question, and they piled into their raggedy car and sped back to Insomnia.

Nobody was willing to tell Gladio the details, but he would learn them later, after going through classified Crownsguard files: there were three unknown assassins that infiltrated the Amicitia manor hours after sundown. Nobody was home except Iris and their mother, who woke up to an alarm. She sent a message for help. By the time the ‘guards came, the assassins were dead and so was his mom.

Clarus never went camping again.

(And Gladio craved that freedom, to go back outside and finally breathe freely but he couldn’t, not when he now had Iris to take care of).

* * *

Seeing Iris was a delight, for everybody, and it was nice to finally be inside a decent, clean hotel without having to watch over everybody’s shoulders for an enemy waiting to strike. Hearing Iris talk about Insomnia’s fall, however, felt like pressing on a bruise.

Hell, he wasn’t even there and he’s feeling sick—he can’t imagine what Iris is going through, retelling her story. When her bottom lip begins to tremble, Gladio decides he’s had enough. He stands up abruptly, turning to the others.

“Hey, can you give us a sec?” he says, but it’s more an order. There’s understanding in Ignis’ eyes and he nods once.

“Of course,” Ignis says. “I’m glad you’re okay, Iris. If there’s anything we can do for you, just let us know. Prompto, Noct?”

Prompto rises and pats Iris on the shoulder awkwardly. “Yeah, uh, what he said. Glad to see that you’re doing okay.”

Noct doesn’t say anything. His eyes have a far-away look in them, the same one that now appears whenever somebody brings up Insomnia or his father. Prompto gently takes hold of his arm and leads him out of the room. Once the door clicks shut, Iris throws herself into Gladio’s arms and buries her face in his shirt.

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds her, as tightly as he can. 

When Iris finally breaks apart, her eyes are shining and Gladio asks, “How’re you holding up?”

“Fine, I guess. I’ve been doing better.”

Bullshit. “Jared told me you were crying earlier.”

“I told him not to tell anyone,” Iris says, but it’s without any malice. She sighs, heavy with resignation. “Can you blame me? Insomnia just got destroyed and telling you guys all about it just… made it more real.” She pauses. “Earlier, Jared thought I was upset over dad.”

Oh.

Gladio sinks down onto the bed behind him. He searches Iris’ face for any sign of grief, any expression at all—and he comes up empty. 

“Are you?” Gladio asks quietly. Iris comes over to sit down next to him. She doesn’t lean into his side. She sits up straight with her hands clasped together in her lap. It’s a while before she speaks again.

“I don’t know. I should be sad over this. Or feel something like regret. But it’s like… there’s  _ nothing.  _ I know he’s gone but… he’s always  _ been  _ gone.”

“...Yeah.”

Gladio hesitates, then wraps an arm around Iris. She was too young to properly remember their mom, and Clarus slept too often at the Citadel for her to know her dad. At first, Gladio was terrified of Iris. She was so  _ small  _ and  _ fragile  _ and cried easily and he—he was a brute, a giant made for fighting. But after their mom died and there was nobody to hold Iris when she cried, Gladio had to learn.

He had to patch the bruises on her knees when she tripped and clean the cuts on her arms she’d get when climbing trees. He was the one teaching Iris how to cook on Jared’s day off because Gladio was terrified of dying and leaving her alone with no one to take care of her. Gladio taught Iris how to fight himself and then asked Cor for help because their own father was too busy to teach them. He was the one explaining to Iris why there was always an empty spot at the dinner table. He was the one Iris called when she was being followed by a group of thugs one night and he was the one that rocked Iris to sleep when nightmares of a murder she could barely remember kept her awake.

(Gladio loves kids, sure. When he thought about his future in Insomnia, back when he thought he’d watch Noct ascend to the throne peacefully, he imagined himself having a kid. Or maybe more. He doesn’t mind them, really. 

He just wishes he had the chance to be one himself).

“I feel like I should be crying,” Iris says. “Every time somebody asks me about him, I have to sit there and pretend I’m about to burst into tears or something.”

Gladio wonders how Jared feels about this. He’s taken notice of Clarus’ absence. He’s spent more nights at the manor than Clarus at this point. But he also respected Clarus, or at least, he’s never said anything against him. About what he did—or didn’t do—to his kids.

Either way, he’s probably grieving Clarus’ death. Gladio can’t admit to Jared (maybe the closest person he’s ever had to a father) that he isn’t upset over Clarus’ death because Jared is already dealing with trauma and problems of his own. He shouldn't have to choose between Gladio or Clarus.

“Yeah,” Gladio says. “The others… they keep telling me what a great man he was. One night, Noct even… thanked me. Said he was grateful that he was there for the king when they both died. I guess they’re right, in a way. He  _ was  _ a good Shield.”

“Just could have been a better dad.” Iris swings her legs like she’s a kid again.  _ Gods,  _ she’s _still_ just a kid and she’s had to grow up so fast, first because of their dad, then the war, and now Insomnia’s destruction. And he was the one teaching her how to be an adult as a teenager because Shields never lived long lives and Gladio wasn’t cocky enough to think himself an exception and wanted Iris to be able to take care of herself.

Then Iris hums thoughtfully. “Does it… feel the same when mom died? For you?”

“No.” Gladio answers too quickly, maybe, but it’s the truth. “When mom died, that was when everything started to go wrong. I first realized that life is shitty sometimes and how dangerous it was to be an Amicitia. It was so abrupt and that’s when dad’s depression started.”  _ And that’s when I stopped being your older brother and had to become some sort of father to you.  _ But Gladio won’t say that aloud—Iris doesn’t need to feel guilty and Gladio doesn’t regret or blame her for anything. “It’s… how do I put it? It’s like the dad before mom died and the dad after she died were two different people. Guess we lost both parents that night.”

“I remember the smell of his cologne. You know the one he used to spray on himself every morning? The one you always said you hated the smell of ‘cause it was so strong? I remember feeling safe every time I smelled it ‘cause it meant he was holding me.”

“You remember shit from when you were two?”

“No, dummy. When I was a little older and when dad didn’t leave home so much. I mean, he holed himself up in his office, but sometimes he’d hug me when he came out. Wasn’t much—” Iris shrugs. “—but it was something. It was nice before he stopped."

Gladio flops backwards onto the bed and stares at the ceiling. “We shouldn’t have had to beg for scraps of his attention and affection like that.” Iris follows suit, landing roughly on his arm. When did she get so big? “I couldn’t even get annoyed at your clinginess when you were a kid ‘cause I needed that attention, too.”

“Don’t remind me. I could barely go three hours without seeing you and I’d always blow up your phone with texts.”

“I wasn’t saying it like it was a bad thing. I never hated getting texts from you, and… I almost missed it, when you got older and stopped texting and calling me as much. I was worried that you and I were gonna grow apart like me and dad.”

Iris freezes and Gladio wonders if he’s spoken too much. Hell, this is the most he’s talked about his feelings in…  _ ever,  _ he supposes. But Iris only grabs onto his shirt, holding it so roughly that Gladio fears it might tear.

“ _ Don’t  _ say that. Just  _ don’t.  _ I’m not gonna let that happen, and I’m not gonna let you leave me either. I know you have to follow Noct but that doesn’t mean that… I don’t want you to—” Iris’ voice wavers, and falls completely. 

“I’m not gonna leave you, Iris,” Gladio cuts her off. “I’ll always be here for you, ‘kay? And the rest of us—we’re not going anywhere either. The others care about you, too. I know that Prompto was asking me if you had some free time and could show him around Lestallum.”

Iris rubs at her eyes and tries a small laugh. “He got lost again, didn’t he?”

“Yep. He and Noct both. You’re gonna have to play chaffeur to them, just warning you in advance. If they ever start being too annoying, you can just threaten to walk away and leave them stranded in an alleyway.”

That gets a bigger laugh out of Iris. “They aren’t annoying. Prompto just likes to talk a lot and Noct is… Noct. But I’ll keep that in mind. Are they… waiting downstairs right now?”

“Knowing them, they’ve probably hit a food court by now. Are you okay enough to join them?”

“I think so.” Iris sits up, and smooths down her shirt. She looks down at Gladio with a tiny grin. “I think I’m feeling a little better. I still don’t know how I feel about dad, but yeah, I’m done moping. I want to do something and see the others.”

“Alright then. Let’s go find ‘em.”

It still feels  _ wrong  _ to be told his father was a great man and to hear his friends praise him, and Gladio’s in  _ no way  _ going to tell them they’re wrong, but maybe he’ll start to see their point in the future. When they go back to Insomnia and take back the throne and give him a proper burial. 

(The rest of the group is, as expected, eating outside at a restaurant. There are two empty seats for them and bright smiles welcoming them back. It feels like home).

**Author's Note:**

> ngl the og premise for this fic partly was: i like writing bad parental figures and because there’s very little content on the amicitia family dynamics (w/ their father), it’s My City Now and i Want clarus to be a Bad Father
> 
> then as i was writing this, a more sympathetic/gray clarus came out where it’s like,, he loved his kids but thru his Grief, he couldn’t be a good parent to them and he isn’t Bad Dad Clarus it was more like “yeah he sucked and there’s no excusing that, but here are his reasons”
> 
> (also: i wanted to write 2 chapters, in which the second one had some Gladnis where gladio gets drunk to cope and confesses to ignis about his lack of grief over Clarus but as i wanted to post this quickly to get rid of my writer's block asap, this scenario will simply become food for thought)


End file.
